


What lurks beneath the deep (is a friend)

by AnnaTheHank



Category: Good Omens (TV)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Human, Alternate Universe - Mermaid, Colonial Times, Colonization, Crowley is a mermaid, Crowley raising Warlock, Gabriel Redemption (Good Omens), Hastur redemption, M/M, Mermaids, More characters to be added, Treasure Hunting, aziraphale is a scientist, but he's gonna get ya in the first half sorry, crowley is a love sick fool, eventually, magic is involved, yeah I went there come at me
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-03-05
Updated: 2020-06-15
Packaged: 2021-03-01 03:08:21
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 6
Words: 14,825
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/23028307
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/AnnaTheHank/pseuds/AnnaTheHank
Summary: Naturalist Aziraphale is excited about his new home. All the way on the other side of the sea he'll find more new things to research than he can count! But his most exciting discovery comes in the form of a mermaid, and one who might just hold the secrets to a grand treasure.
Relationships: Anathema Device & The Them (Good Omens), Aziraphale & Anathema Device, Aziraphale & Gabriel (Good Omens), Aziraphale/Crowley (Good Omens), Crowley & Warlock Dowling, Warlock Dowling & The Them (Good Omens)
Comments: 68
Kudos: 99





	1. Meet-Cute

**Author's Note:**

> Listen, I know starting another wip is not a good idea. But did I ever claim to be smart? I think NOT
> 
> But thank you all for stopping by to read this!!! This idea sort of followed me down a dark alley last night and beat me up while I was _trying_ to go to sleep at a _reasonable_ hour. I hope you all enjoy reading it!!! <3 <3 <3

The day he’d been waiting for had finally come, and as Aziraphale stood at the side of the ship, leaning over and watching the dock approach he felt an overwhelming sense of calm. The whole trip over had been exhausting. Aziraphale had been a wreck with nerves. Nerves of sailing, nerves of the crew who stalked about and gave him all kinds of looks, nerves of the new home he was about to reside in. But all of that melted away as the shore line drew closer and closer still.

The land they were heading for was flush full of color. All kinds of vegetation was already growing around the farmlands stretching out in the back. And behind them were lines of trees that Aziraphale had only seen in books. And there they were, in real life. It was nearly enough to make him cry. 

“Beautiful, isn’t it?” a voice asked.

Aziraphale hadn’t even realized that someone had snuck up behind him. It was a young woman, Anathema if he remembered correctly. She was a teacher. Apparently the first shipment of colonizers had made good progress on increasing the population, and what good was a population if left uneducated. A pretty terrible one if Aziraphale had anything to say about it.

“Oh yes,” he told her with the nod of his head. “It’s so unlike home. It’s amazing.”

Anathema smiled. She wore dark clothes, all kinds of blacks and greens and deep blues. Aziraphale much preferred a lighter-toned aesthetic, but she managed to pull it off well, and her genius was matched by none, making her excellent company. 

“You said you were here to study the area,” Anathema said. “Anything in particular?”

Aziraphale nodded enthusiastically and pulled out his notebook. He had already made some startling discoveries about the local marine life from the fish the crew had been catching along the way. It meant a few nights of no or half-dinner but it was worth it. 

“I’ve always been particularly interested in the sea,” he explained, showing Anathema his drawings and notes. “And I just know there’s all kinds of new and undiscovered life to be found over here. 

Anathema took the notebook and actually seemed to read it, unlike the others he’s shown it to who would just skim it with a polite smile. 

“Fascinating,” she whispered. “Oh! You know, if you wouldn’t mind, I’m sure the children around here would love it if you could come in one day, maybe show them all your work?”

Aziraphale’s eyes lit up. There was nothing he loved more than to share his knowledge with others. “I would absolutely love that! What a splendid idea!”

Any further conversation they might have had was cut off by the ringing off a bell, accompanied by a rather fierce slap of a wave against the side of the boat. Around them the crew started to busy themselves with preparations, making sure to slide perfectly into port, without breaking anything. 

-

Aziraphale had spent most of his money on the passage over here. The only reason he had been able to afford it at all was because it was another colonizing ship. There was no return back across the ocean. At least, not for a while. With what he had left, Aziraphale had purchased what equated to a rusty little shack near the edge of town. Which suited him just fine as there was a lovely little path leading right down to the shore. 

The inside, however, left much to be desired. There was a small cot, and a laughably tiny bookcase. (Aziraphale had had to be very picky about the books he brought with him, leaving the majority of his collection in the good hands of his family). A small table with one chair rounded up the furniture. And decorations hadn’t even been thought of. 

Aziraphale unpacked the books he did bring, and laid out his clothes on the cot. There was much to do in here, much indeed, if he wanted to be comfortable or at all enjoy his stay. But that would have to wait. He was in a new place! With hundreds of new things to discover! 

Aziraphale grabbed his notebook and pencils and rushed out the door. He had to slow down on the path to the shore, as most of it was too steep and littered with rocks. If he wasn’t careful, he was likely to twist an ankle or trip and roll down into the sea. Neither of which would be preferable. 

As soon as he was down there, Aziraphale could already make out about a dozen things he’s never seen before, mostly shells. He had read about them, of course. He was not the first naturalist to have come to these lands in search of knowledge. But it was his first time, and he was going to study everything he could get his hands on. 

A small grouping of rocks was to be his base. They jutted out into the water a bit, like a natural dock, and the beach on either side had loads of shells to pick from. Aziraphale placed his notebook down, a bit away from the water, and then grabbed the nearest unique shell he could find. It was partially chipped, but that didn’t matter. It was curved in such a beautiful fashion, and it had stripes of pink running down the ridges. It was magnificent.

With a smile, Aziraphale placed the shell on the rocks and ventured back out to find something else. In the distance, a new bird’s cry filled the air. There was so much beauty in this new place, and Aziraphale had been in such a rush, he hadn’t taken the time to properly enjoy it. So he closed his eyes and took in a deep breath. It was so different over here, even the water acted out. Waves slapped against the rocks and Aziraphale listened to them fizz and bubble as they fell away. One wave made a particularly loud thwap behind him.

After that moment of peaceful reflection, Aziraphale sighed and got back to work. He picked up a second shell, this one curled in tight around itself. He turned to place it next to the first, but that shell was gone, the rock around it stained dark with water. It must have been that wave.

Aziraphale frowned. He knew, objectively, that there were probably plenty of other shells like that around, but he couldn’t guarantee it. Determined to not be slowed down, Aziraphale grabbed his notebook and pushed it a little further back, placing the new shell next to it. He nodded and went to look for more. 

This time, Aziraphale decided, he would gather a few at a time, no need to walk up and down the beach each time for one shell. Especially not when there were so many. About half of the shells on this shore were ones he couldn’t find at home, and it exhilarated him. 

With a handful of new finds, Aziraphale trekked his way back to the rocks. He gasped. The dark stains of the waves had crept up. His other shell was gone, and the side of his notebook had gotten wet. 

Aziraphale hurried over and picked up the book, shaking it a bit. It didn’t look too damaged, but it would need time to dry out. Aziraphale cast a dark glance at the ocean and took his goodies back to the safety of the sand. He shrugged off his jacket, laying it down and placing the shells on it. Then he opened his notebook and laid it out to dry, checking that nothing important had gotten washed away. 

“Now, you behave,” Aziraphale said, pointing to the ocean. “No more waves.”

He knew it was silly of him, trying to control nature in such a way. But he was determined to keep at least _some_ of these shells to study. 

Aziraphale decided to walk down the beach on the other side of his wave-attracting rock formation. There weren’t as many unique shells over here, but he did have some time to squat down and watch as a little horseshoe crab crawled its way under the sand, and he cursed himself and the sea that he didn’t have his notebook there to make observations. 

With the image of the crawling crab fresh in his mind, Aziraphale took the shells he had found and hurried back, keeping an eye on his feet in case he missed something else interesting in the sand. 

As he got closer, Aziraphale heard something. It sounded an awful lot like a snake slithering through grass. He glanced up, only to catch the briefest view of _something_ slipping into the water. From where the ripples of the water moved, a line of wet had been left behind, leading up to Aziraphale’s coat, the corner now drenched, the shells he collected now gone.

Aziraphale huffed and stomped his foot. He stormed over, dropping his new shells where the old ones had been. He placed his hands on his hips and looked out at the water. Someone was out there, messing with him. Must have been one of the local kids, he figured, stealing his work, for whatever reason kids stole things. Maybe he’d just have to re-think his visit to the school now.

“Alright,” he announced, walking out on the rocks, careful not to slip. “I know someone is out there.” He studied the surface of the ocean, trying to see through the slow waves. Eventually they’d have to come up for air. “Show yourself.”

Nothing. Nothing but the soft sounds of gentle waves and bird song in the distance. 

“Show yourself right now!” Aziraphale demanded, a little worried that whoever it was might just drown in their refusal to be seen. “If you just give me my shells back, I promise nothing else will happen.”

And nothing did happen. Aziraphale frowned, then he actually could feel the idea pop into his head. He smiled to himself, the genius that he was, and picked up the first shell he could find. He placed it on the rock, right where the first one had been. 

Slowly, he walked away, keeping his body forward, but looking over his shoulder. He stood still, out where he was certain it looked like he was gone. But still nothing happened. Aziraphale frowned and returned to his coat. At least he could make _some_ studies on this batch of shells. He’d like to have more, but these would do for a start.

There was so much more sun over here than back home, and even though his notebook was still a little wet, Aziraphale decided he would sit there on the beach and work. Better than the small shack of his. More fresh air and space to think out here. He opened his notebook and started jotting down the things he remembered about that crab.

Then he heard a loud splash.

Aziraphale’s head popped up, eyes eagerly scanning over the rocks. He saw someone, as he suspected. But it didn’t look like a child. It looked like a man, a man with long, wavy, red hair that stuck to his face and shoulders from the wet. 

“Aha!” Aziraphale accused, hopping to his feet. He carried his notebook over, practically shaking it at the man. “What do you think you’re doing, going around stealing my…”

The rest of his rant died off in the back of his throat. As he got closer to the man, he noticed strange things about him. He was only partially out of the water, but he was plenty unique from what was visible. His eyes were an unusual yellow color, with long slits for pupils. There was sags of skin around his neck that peaked out behind his hair, all red and pink, and almost like slits. When Aziraphale was close enough to peer over the rock’s edge, he could see not legs, but a tail! A fish tail! A dark-scaled fish tail with all kinds of whiskers snaking out from it. And the arms the man was treading water with had fins attached to them, flowing through the water.

“My goodness,” Aziraphale whispered, certain he was dreaming or having some kind of heat stroke. 

The man in the water smiled and lifted a hand up. He had long fingers, with bits of sinew connecting them. He slapped it on the rocks, leaving behind a bracelet. Aziraphale looked down at it, recognizing the shells he had found that morning, how they had been strung together expertly.

Aziraphale had no idea what to think about anything. He reached up and touched his forehead, but despite the strong sun, he wasn’t warm. The man in the water wiggled a bit, and then turned, flipped over, and swam back below the surface.

“Oh wait!” Aziraphale called out, watching him disappear into the darkness. He wanted to know more, to study more. To take notes he could look at with a clear head. But he had seen some things. So Aziraphale sat himself down and opened his book to a clean page, scribbling like mad with all the observations he could remember clearly. 

A few minutes passed and there was another plop. Aziraphale looked up, smiling when he saw the man again. “Oh, good! You’re back!”

The man blinked and lifted an arm out of the water. He deposited a boot next to the bracelet. It was brown, soaked all the way through, and had a large hole where the big toe would be. 

“Oh,” Aziraphale said, studying it. “That’s...a lovely boot you have there…”

The man tilted his head slightly, smiled, and then flipped away again. 

“No wait!” Aziraphale called again, to no avail. He sighed and looked back at the boot. It wasn’t his. And it certainly looked too old to belong to anyone in the town. Perhaps it had once belonged to an older crew that hadn’t made it across the ocean. The coast of this land was littered with dozens of colonies, all at different stages of development. Must have come from one of those, surely. 

Unless someone was into really old fashion and the man had stolen that as well. Well, he wasn’t really a man, was he? Aziraphale hummed and thought it over. The creature was certainly of the masculine build, with wide shoulders and a flat, not too muscular, chest. But perhaps, like many other species, the biological norms that humans followed did not apply to him. It. Them?

Before Aziraphale could work through the rest of his musing, the man (or so Aziraphale decided he’d be until he learned more) emerged once again. This time he placed an old fork next to the boot.

Aziraphale saw him smile, and quickly reached out, grabbing his wrist before he could swim away. 

“Please,” Aziraphale said, as the man studied the hand on his wrist, eyes opening wider, the yellow of them seeming to grow and spread outwards. “Don’t swim away again.”

The man looked up at Aziraphale’s face. He had such a unique beauty to him that Aziraphale couldn’t help but feel drawn to it. The man blinked, his eyes returning to their original shape. 

“I’d like to look at you more,” Aziraphale explained. “If that’s okay.”

The man just stared at him. At least he wasn’t moving his arm away. The arm that was soft, and not nearly as slimy as Aziraphale imagined. 

“You don’t understand anything I’m saying, do you?”

The silence as they stared at each other answered that question for him.

Aziraphale hummed and looked around. “Ah!” He kept his hold on the man, reaching for his notebook on his lap with his free hand. “Here, see?” He twisted a bit, arms crossed over each other as he showed the man the page where Aziraphale had been trying to draw him. 

The man’s eyes grew wider and he smiled a wide, toothy kind of smile. 

“Yes, yes. I’m drawing you,” Aziraphale explained, even though he knew the other man could not at all understand it. “But see, I’m missing some bits.”

He carefully released the arm, keeping an eye on the man, ready to snatch it up again if he looked ready to swim away. He pointed to the bits of paper not filled in.

A look of realization dawned on the man’s face. He nodded. Aziraphale watched as the man twisted around, twirling to the other side of him, and then pushed up on the rock, dragging his body out of the water, well his tail, before sitting down. He looked a bit like someone sitting with one leg crossed over the other. 

“Fascinating!” Aziraphale exclaimed, feverishly taking notes on the way the man’s body seemed to move. “Absolutely astounding!” 

In the heat of knowledge, he forgot that the man next to him was even there, or rather, that he was a conscious, thinking being. He just scribbled away, making notes, looking up from time to time to fill in the portions of his sketch he had been missing. 

He felt the man lean over, then he felt the man’s chin rest against his shoulder. “Oh,” Aziraphale said, glancing over. The man was studying the notebook in Aziraphale’s lap.

“Oh,” the man said. Well, tried to say. It came out more like an “Ooouuu” sound. 

But that didn’t bother Aziraphale one bit. “You have vocal cords!” he announced. His outcry startled the man, who moved back a bit. Aziraphale didn't notice, jotting that fact down on the space left of his drawing. 

The man tried to mimic what he had said again, but it just came out like a bunch of elongated verbs strung together.

“Oh dear,” Aziraphale said. It was, he figured, a lot like a baby learning to talk. Living underwater, the man must use some form of sonic vibration to communicate, if he communicated with anyone or thing at all. Vocalization like this would take some getting used to. 

“Ooouuh, deeeeahhh,” the man said. 

Aziraphale chuckled, a sound which the man was able to imitate perfectly. “You are something else, aren’t you?”

He waited as the man mimicked the vowels of his sentence, occasionally getting close on some words as he worked his mouth to match how Aziraphale had moved it. 

“I,” Aziraphale said, placing a hand on his chest.

“I,” the man said, repeating his motion.

Aziraphale nodded, smiling his praise. “Am,” he tried next.

“Aaaa” the man said, eagerly awaiting the next task.

Aziraphale shook his head and the man’s face fell. Aziraphale hummed. The man hummed. Aziraphale repeated himself. “Am.”

The man stalled for a moment, then said, “Aaammm.”

“Perfect!” Aziraphale announced, wincing a bit as the man tried to mimic that word. One step at a time.

“Az,” Aziraphale started, holding out the z so the man could see how it worked. And he mimicked it perfectly. Aziraphale smiled and worked the man through the rest of his name. Probably not the easiest word to start him off on, but the man wasn’t a baby, and seemed to be catching on rather quickly.

“Aziraphale,” the man finished, stringing the bits together as Aziraphale had done. 

“Excellent!” Aziraphale placed his hand to his chest. “I am Aziraphale.”

The man didn’t repeat him. He tilted his head, looking at Aziraphale’s chest. He reached out, grabbing Aziraphale’s hands. And the skin that touched him wasn’t slimy, but sticky, the sinew of the man’s hands gripping him expertly. 

The man held up Aziraphale’s hand and proclaimed, “Aziraphale!”

Aziraphale chuckled again. “No, not quite. My name,” he explained. “Aziraphale. It’s what people call me.”

And someone did call him. Someone from up the hill. Someone by his house called out for him. 

The man startled, looked up, and then released Aziraphale’s hand before tumbling back into the water and swimming away. 

“Oh, don’t go,” Aziraphale said. But the man was already gone. And a different man was making his way over to him.

“Aziraphale, there you are.” It was Gabriel. He was the town’s mayor. It was him who had written to Aziraphale in the first place, who had told him he had been following his work, and that there was much more to learn over here. Aziraphale was thankful for the welcome, but did wish Gabriel had been willing to pay for part of the journey at least. 

“Hello, Gabriel,” Aziraphale greeted, standing up. He brushed himself off, and kept his spot in his notebook with his finger. 

“Just wanted to make sure you had gotten in alright,” Gabriel said, with a smile that didn’t reach his eyes. “Went to meet you at the docks but you weren’t there.”

“Oh, yes.” Aziraphale gulped. He had been so excited by this new land and his new research that he had forgotten all about meeting with Gabriel. Who had so graciously offered to show him around. “Terribly sorry, just got a little caught up in things, I suppose.”

He knew it was a terrible idea to mention to _anyone_ what he had seen. They put people away for that sort of stuff. Besides, he wasn’t even sure he _had_ seen anything. He wasn’t going to go around making any comments about it until he could confirm that he wasn’t just being delusional. 

“That’s alright,” Gabriel said. “Shells will still be here tomorrow,” he continued, looking back at Aziraphale’s jacket. “Come have a look around town.”

Aziraphale glanced back at the water. He wanted to stay, maybe see if the man would come back. Or at least finish writing down the thoughts he had. But Gabriel did not seem like the sort of man to be kept waiting, and Aziraphale was certain his new friend had been thoroughly scared away. 

“Right,” Aziraphale agreed, closing his book up properly. “Sounds lovely.”

He grabbed his new bracelet, the boot, and the fork, all while Gabriel raised an eyebrow at him.

“For an experiment,” he explained, before trudging up to grab his coat and other shells. It had been an interesting day, to say the least. And Aziraphale just could not wait for the next one.


	2. A fish by any other name

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Did I manage to finish a chapter _and_ still get in bed by midnight??? I think I DID!!!
> 
> Thank you all for stopping by again and joining me on this mystical fishy journey. Just a heads up that in the first half of this chapter Crowley goes by Crawly, but then he changes it.
> 
> Also, the fisherman is Shadwell

Crawly swam through the water with excited ease, his tail creating a pattern of waves behind him. The day had proven every bit as spectacular as he imagined. He knew that humans had a tendency to be dangerous, but he couldn’t help but be curious. Every new ship that came by was like a giant beacon, and he was forever drawn towards the light.

And this particular light had been extra bright. 

_Aziraphale_. Truth be told, Crawly thought it was a bit of a funny name. It didn’t, in any way, say anything about who that man was. At least, not as far as Crawly understood. Maybe there was something human about he just didn’t get. 

Crawly had gotten his name because, as a child, he had decided to slither and crawl around on the ocean floor instead of swim. It was mostly to hide from the others. It was near impossible to get a hint of privacy down in their home. Warlock had been obsessed with a witches hat when Crawly had found it a few years ago. Everyone’s names down here made sense, and Crawly wondered what secrets Aziraphale’s name held.

“Crawly,” a familiar, slimy voice said. Crawly winced. He had just entered the cropping of shells that marked the border of their gathering. Couldn’t swim one foot without running into someone.

Hastur had the uncanny ability to be everywhere at once. It was almost like he could just appear somewhere if someone wanted him to. Or rather, if they didn’t want him to. It was, Crawly supposed, what made him such a good guard. 

With a wide smile, Crawly turned to face him. “Hello, Hastur,” he greeted, waving a bit.

“Don’t,” Hastur warned. He swam up, the green of his scales tangled up in seaweed. He must have been patrolling the East side. “I know you’re up to something, Crawly. You’ve been swimming in and out all morning.”

Crawly tilted his head. “Yes,” he agreed. “I have. That’s what this is for.” He held up his hand, the bracelet with the gold medallion on it exposed to Hastur, who eyed it hungrily. “Or didn’t you forget?”

Crawly was free to come and go as he pleased. Most weren’t so lucky. There had been such a great danger to them since more humans started moving over here that a few generations ago, the older chiefs had put it in place that no one was allowed to leave their grouping. But a few handful here and there were granted permission, for one reason or another. Crawly, who was excellent at reporting on human migration, was one of them.

“I never forget,” Hastur said, squinting at him a bit. “But you’re certainly up to something.” He floated just a bit out of Crawly’s reach, glaring. “And I’m going to find out. And when I do, losing that,” he nodded at Crawly’s wrist, “will be the least of your worries.”

Crawly tried not to gulp, but he did shiver a bit as something cold ran down his spine. He knew it was foolish to get so close to the humans. More foolish even to talk to one, sit next to one...touch one. But there was something about that Aziraphale that Crawly just couldn’t stay away from. And if he could just figure out what that was, he’d be fine. 

“Right, well. I’m sure you have lots of good patrolling to do,” Crawly said, picking his smile back up. “See ya.”

Crawly didn’t wait for Hastur’s response. He just turned and swam away, deeper into the gathering. 

There was a lot of stuff that ended up in the ocean, and no mermaid yet seemed capable of resisting the urge to have all of it. They had settled down, many years ago, in a large coral reef. Tall towers of colored protein provided structures for homes they completed with sunken wood and metal. And inside each room, a hoard of goodies that each family had collected. 

Crawly lived on the edge of the reef. He liked it that way just fine, even though his father had wanted to move closer to the center, where all the action was. Crawly wasn’t a find of the action. He wanted something different. He wanted unique. And humans were nothing but. 

Crawly pushed over the rock that guarded his room. He slipped in, letting it fall back into place. Comparatively, Crawly had the least amount of stuff than all the others in his gathering. But the things he did have were special, one of a kind, unique. It was the kind of stuff only he could find, being allowed to go beyond their border, search wrecks and other sites that only he and a few others could get to. He treasured each and every one of them.

“Where’s your boot?”

Crawly spun around, ready to fight whoever had come in. But it was just Warlock. He relaxed a little. “I gave it away,” he said. 

“You gave it away?” Warlock swam closer to the spot on Crawly’s shelf where it had been. He squinted at the empty location. “Why? You loved that boot. That was your favorite boot.”

Crawly looked around and tried not to blush. He had to think of a good excuse. He couldn’t let it out that he was trying to impress someone with it, especially not a human. “Uh, someone needed it.”

“Who? For what?”

“I’m sorry,” Crawly said. “But you are limited to one question per day.”

Warlock rolled his eyes, and then landed them on the spot where the fork had once been. “And your fork!” He sped over, nearly knocking into Crawly as he did. “No one had a fork like that!”

“And now neither do we.” 

Crawly turned back around, straightening the other goodies he had, deciding which he would take up to Aziraphale next. He felt Warlock swim up to him, felt the heat of his gaze on his face. Crawly blinked, and turned to look at him. “Yes?”

“It’s my birthday,” Warlock announced.

“No, no, can't be,” Crawly said, shaking his head. “I remember, we just had one for you last year.”

Warlock half-smiled while rolling his eyes. He was getting too old for those jokes. And that saddened Crawly a bit. 

“I’m eleven now,” Warlock said, as if Crawly didn’t know. 

“A good year,” Crawly said, returning to his task, hoping the conversation would just end there.

Of course, it didn’t. “I’m old enough now,” Warlock said, swimming even closer, nearly touching. “I can go out with you.”

Crawly looked to the side, away from him. “You don’t wanna go out there,” he said. “It’s boring.”

“Doesn't seem like it.” Warlock turned to the shelves, touching all the unique objects. “There’s all this stuff out there. And I want to find it. All of it. Like you!” He turned his wide eyes up to Crawly, begging.

Crawly sighed. They may not have been related by blood, but damn if the kid wasn’t just like him. Curious, adventurous, really good at making that face. He ran a hand down his face. “Alright, look. If you can prove to me that you’re able to handle yourself, I’ll take you out with me next time I go to a wreck.”

Warlock’s eyes lit up and his tail swished back and forth in the water, creating some waves around them. “What do I have to do?”

Crawly thought about it. It had to be something impossible. Something no one, not even he, could do. He smirked. “You gotta sneak into the algae brush, and cut down one of the tallest stalks. And bring it back to me. Without getting caught, of course.”

Warlock’s body stilled, his mouth falling open. “You can’t be serious?”

“Oh, I am.” Crawly reached up to the highest shelf, feeling around for Warlock’s birthday gift. “Out there, you have to be able to hide and move about in the shadows. Not being seen is your number one point of defense.” His hands closed around it, and he pulled it down. “And you have to know how to use one of these.”

Warlock’s eyes regained their light as Crawly presented the small dagger to him. It was curved a bit at the end, and the handle was engraved with little stars. He had found it four years ago, and had been very good at keeping it hidden until now. 

“Really?” Warlock took the blade, studying it.

Crawly nodded. “Just, be careful with the pointy bit. It’s sharp.”

Warlock gave him a look, but then melted into a smile. “I’ll get that algae stalk,” he confirmed. 

Crawly smiled back at him and patted his head. _Sure you will_ he thought, secure in the knowledge that, at least for now, Warlock was safe. 

-

Crawly had decided on the half of a plate to give to Aziraphale. It was beautiful, with a perfect chipped edge and flowers on the rim. It had some of those human words on it too. Maybe Aziraphale would know what they were. 

He left early that morning, before Warlock was even awake. He wanted to get to the surface and practice some of that speaking stuff. Aziraphale had gotten really excited when Crawly had said the words properly. He wanted him to be excited again. 

But he only got a few minutes in before he spotted movement on the beach. He ducked below the water, watching with a scowl as that grumpy, old fisherman set up a chair and worked on getting his line in the water. Crawly hated when he worked on the beach. He was usually off in his little boat, out into deeper water. He could be here all day, and then Crawly would never get to talk to Aziraphale. 

Crawly circled about in the water, thinking. He had to get that man away. He could steal some of the man’s things. That tended to make most people leave. Or maybe he could grab the line and pull him in the water? No, he risked being seen or caught like that. 

Crawly watched as a little fish swam up to the bait. Hungry little guy. Crawly smiled and rushed forward, blocking the fish’s path. He reached into the bag he had brought with him that day. It had Aziraphale’s plate, and his lunch in it. He ripped off a piece of his lunch and handed it out to the fish. 

The fish nipped at it, seemed satisfied, and then turned and swam away. Crawly nodded. This could work. The fisherman didn’t seem to have as much patience as he probably should. If Crawly could keep the fish away long enough, maybe he’d give up.

Two hours later and Crawly’s lunch was gone, and the man was still there. He was asleep, slumped down in his chair, line tied to his foot, hat over his face. And carefully stepping his way down the side of the cliff was Aziraphale. 

Crawly had to act, and he had to act fast. 

With no regard for his own safety, Crawly grabbed the line and pulled, trying to keep the hook away from his skin and scales. The first tug only got the man’s attention, sliding him further down in his chair. So Crawly grabbed with both hands and swam away as fast as he could, pulling at the line as he went. He laughed as the fisherman flopped out of his chair and slid down into the waves. 

Crawly released the line, watching the fisherman stumble to his feet, spitting out the water and sand. But Crawly’s joy and smile fell as Aziraphale hurried over to the man, helping him up. 

Crawly dipped lower into the shadows, watching and waiting. He worried that Aziraphale’s pure beauty and charm would convince the fisherman to stay, give it another go. But the fisherman just threw his hat on the ground, grab his box of equipment, and stormed off. 

Aziraphale stood where he was for a moment, watching him go. Then he looked out to the sea, leaning forward a bit. Crawly swam closer to the rocks and waited. Eventually Aziraphale did move, also to the rocks. He sat down near the edge, as he had done yesterday. He had the book of his, the one with Crawly’s picture in it. And Crawly was overjoyed to see he was wearing the bracelet he had made him. 

Unable to contain his excitement anymore, Crawly swam up, a little too fast, bursting out of the water with a sharp slapping sound. “Aziraphale!” he announced, showing off how good he was getting at talking.

And Aziraphale’s whole face lit up with a smile. “Oh! Simply wonderful,” were the sounds that came out of his mouth as he clapped a little. 

Crawly wanted to repeat them, to figure out this nuances of this whole talking business. But he wanted to impress Aziraphale even a bit further. 

Crawly placed a hand on his chest, settling himself half in the water. He hadn’t had too much time to work on it. But he thought he was pretty close, either way. “Crawly,” he tried to say. Only the middle bit didn’t come out just right.

“Crowley,” Aziraphale repeated, in a slow, mesmerized fashion. “It’s very lovely to see you again, Crowley.”

Crawly stared at Aziraphale’s face. He had used that one word, lovely, again. He had said it a few times yesterday, and each time his face looked so perfect. Crawly figured it must mean something good. And he had said it with that name. Crowley. It sounded lovely rolling off of his tongue. It sounded right.

So Crowley nodded, and repeated his new name again. 

Aziraphale’s smile only widened more. Then he looked back at the beach, to where the fisherman’s chair still sat. “I don’t suppose you had anything to do with that, did you?” 

He was pointing at the chair. Crowley looked between Aziraphale and the object in question. It was a rather unique chair, and Aziraphale must love unique things like Crowley did. Crowley nodded at him, and swam over to the beach. 

He was aware that Aziraphale was calling out something to him, but he didn’t understand any of it. It was probably just words of encouragement and praise. The chair wasn’t nearly as heavy as Crowley had thought, and once he dragged it into the water, it was a piece of cake to carry back over to the rocks. 

“Oh dear,” Aziraphale said, helping Crowley get the chair out of the water. He sighed and placed it down behind him. “That wasn’t quite what I meant.”

Crowley remembered that he had something else that Aziraphale would like. He reached into his bag and presented the plate with a wide smile. Aziraphale’s smile was softer, but he took the plate as well, their fingers briefly touching as he did so. 

“You know,” Aziraphale said, setting the plate down by the chair. “You don’t have to keep giving me things.”

Crowley swished his tail around a bit, wondering if maybe Aziraphale wanted something else. His face wasn’t nearly as bright and happy as it had been yesterday. 

“May I?” Aziraphale asked. He was holding open his book, pointing to the page with Crowley on it. 

Crowley smiled. Of course. Aziraphale just wanted to finish his drawing was all. He would be all happy as a clam when he was done, of that Crowley was certain. 

Crowley pulled himself up onto the rocks, posing as he had yesterday. He loved the way Aziraphale looked at him, studied him. He was fascinating. He found Crowley fascinating. And there was a bubble in Crowley’s chest. Crowley wanted to tell Aziraphale so much, to tell him how fascinating he himself was. Crowley wanted to sing him praises of his beauty, how the light radiating off his smile was comparable only to the sun, how the green-blue of his eyes was like the sea on a stormy day, how every movement of his body was filled with such joy and excitement for life it was like watching a herd of seahorses during their morning dances. 

But Crowley couldn't say all of that, not to Aziraphale, not in a language or way that he would understand. So he just leaned back on the rocks and watched Aziraphale’s lips and tongue move as he spoke, trying to learn as much as he could so that one day he _could_ tell him all those things.

Aziraphale used a lot of words with frequency. Lovely, amazing, wonderful, fascinating. Crowley decided those were all good words. And every time he heard Aziraphale say one, he mimicked it back until he was saying it right and Aziraphale was smiling at him. 

“How’s that?” Aziraphale asked. He turned the book to Crowley, who leaned over to peer at it. Crowley had seen himself reflected in various things below, but he had never seen himself look quite as lovely as he did in that drawing. 

Crowley loved it. He reached out, grabbing the book from Aziraphale’s hands. He would treasure it forever. He’d never give this one away to anyone.

“Ah, ah,” Aziraphale said. 

“Ah, ah,” Crowley mimicked. Ah ah. Was that what the humans called this? He turned his head, looking at the book. 

“I still need that, see.” Aziraphale grabbed the book, trying to pull it away. 

Crowley stared at him. It was his book. “Ah, ah,” he said. He placed a hand on his chest. “I ah, ah.”

Aziraphale tutted and looked around him, keeping one hand firmly on Crowley’s book. He ah, ah’d again, only slightly different (more like ah ha), and picked up the plate. 

“My book. Your plate.” He held the half out to Crowley.

Crowley digested that. My sounded a lot like I. And if that meant the person talking, it made sense to figure that your meant the person you were talking too. Crowley nodded. He understood. He was a good student.

“My plate,” he said. “Your book.”

Aziraphale smiled, which made Crowley smile.

“Exactly.” Aziraphale tugged on the book again, and Crowley furrowed his eyebrows at him. 

“My plate,” Crowley repeated. Maybe Aziraphale hadn’t heard him right. 

“Yes. Your plate.” Aziraphale shook the plate he was holding. “My book.” He tugged again.

Crowley frowned. Not only had he gotten the words wrong, disappointing Aziraphale, but Aziraphale didn’t want his gift. He was returning his plate to him. 

Overcome with sadness, Crowley deflated, letting go of the book. He stared down at his tail pouting. He nearly slipped off into the water, never to try and show his face to his rejector ever again. 

“Oh, please don’t be sad,” Aziraphale said. He placed a hand on Crowley’s arm. “I just need it to finish my research is all. I can get you one of your very own, if you’d like.”

Crowley looked at the hand touching him. Human skin felt so different from mermaid skin. It was soft, and dry, and warm. Crowley wondered if all of their skin felt like that. He reached up, covering Aziraphale’s hand with his own.

“There we are,” Aziraphale said, smiling softly. “Cheering up a bit?”

“Your plate,” Crowley insisted. He was determined to not lose both rounds of this war. 

Aziraphale looked down at the plate in his hand and nodded. “Yes. And thank you. It’s really a lovely gift.”

He had used that word lovely, and Crowley let himself smile, a bit of joy returning to him. But it drained away again when he heard movement on the sand. 

Not even bothering to check and see who it was, Crowley dove back into the water and swam down, away to safety. He was already taking too many chances with Aziraphale. He couldn’t let himself be seen by anyone else. He couldn’t risk leaving Warlock all alone like that.


	3. Lunches and Sketches

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Aka that awkward moment when your new scientific discovery is probably flirting with you
> 
> Thank you all for reading!! Gonna be a double update tonight because _why not who needs sleep certainly not me_
> 
> I appreciate you all so much!! <3 <3 I hope you enjoy

It was a cloudy day and for that Aziraphale was glad. There weren’t many sunny days back home, and even then Aziraphale hadn’t spent more than an hour or two outside at once. But over here the sun seemed to burn a bit hotter, and he found that he spent more time out in it, waiting by the rocks for Crowley to return.

Yesterday, someone going for a run down the beach had frightened Crowley away. Aziraphale had stayed there until it was too dark to see and he hadn’t come back. He was hoping today Crowley might show up again, so that Aziraphale could learn even more about this fascinating creature. 

Crowley wasn’t in the waters when Aziraphale reached the rocks, so he sat down and set up for the day. He had a handful of shells from his first day here to categorize and study. He pulled them out of his bag with his notebook, leaving his lunch and the small pile of other books he had packed tucked away. 

A light breeze blew by but it didn’t bother Aziraphale. He was always more attuned to the cold than the heat anyway, and he had his jacket on. He hummed softly as he noted the differences and similarities between the shells he had found. He even got some good notes on the ones from his bracelet. 

Waves lapped gently against the rocks around him, and Aziraphale glanced up at the water with each one, hoping Crowley had emerged. 

Half the day passed and Aziraphale frowned, taking a break to eat. He didn’t really know what merfolk life was like. Maybe Crowley had a job? Maybe the last two days had been his weekend. Maybe he was doing some spring cleaning.

Aziraphale chuckled to himself at the concept. Then, holding half his sandwich in his mouth, Aziraphale pulled his notebook back out and started jotting down ideas on what underwater housing would look like, and what kind of cleaning needs they had. 

His head popped up in time with a loud splash, and, sure enough, Crowley was leaning up on the edge of the rocks. 

“Crowley!” Aziraphale exclaimed, voice muffled around his lunch, crumbs spewing over the rocks. Crowley’s head tilted, studying the crumbs as Aziraphale hurried to swallow his bite. “I was beginning to worry you’d never show up.” 

“Aziraphale,” Crowley said. And Aziraphale nodded with a smile. Crowley’s eyes narrowed and he leaned forward, part of his tail starting to slip out of the water. He looked between the sandwich in Aziraphale’s hand and his mouth. 

“Oh, are you hungry?” Aziraphale asked. Not thinking, he held the sandwich out to Crowley.

Crowley jolted back for a moment and Aziraphale tensed, worried he would run away. But then Crowley crept closer again, his nose moving a bit as he seemed to sniff at the food offered to him. Aziraphale wondered if this was such a good idea. After all, he didn’t know what the diets were for these creatures. Bread and cheese very well could kill them.

Aziraphale’s realization came too late. He went to pull his hand back again, but Crowley opened his mouth and took a small bite of the sandwich. Aziraphale watched with interest as Crowley chewed his food, not bothering to close his mouth properly, which actually served Aziraphale well as he could get a better look at Crowley’s teeth. They were basically like human teeth, only the molars seemed flatter and the canines sharper. 

Crowley swallowed and smiled, his tail making waves as he swished it about below them. “Lovely,” he said.

Aziraphale mimicked his smile. “I’m glad you like it,” he said. “Now, let’s just hope your stomach likes it as much, yes?”

“Yes,” Crowley said. He reached into his bag and pulled out a lump of green _something_. He held it out to Aziraphale.

“Oh,” Aziraphale said. He took it from him. The lump was rather weighty, and it was even more slimy. “Uh, thank you?”

Crowley opened his mouth, then pointed to it while saying, “Ahhhhhh.”

“ _Oh,_ ” Aziraphale shivered at the concept. This, he figured, was what Crowley had brought for lunch. He swallowed hard and took a deep breath. It would be rather rude of him to turn down such a kind offer. And if Crowley could eat Aziraphale’s food, it only made sense that Aziraphale could eat his.

Aziraphale picked off a piece of it, fighting another shiver in his body. Crowley watched him with wide eyes, chin resting in his hands. Aziraphale forced a smile and popped the goop into his mouth. It didn’t taste bad, in fact, it was surprisingly sweet. But it was slimy beyond all belief and his saliva just seemed to set off a reaction that made it dissolve. He forced himself to swallow, trying hard not to toss it back up. 

Once his stomach had settled, Aziraphale nodded at Crowley saying, “Thank you,” as he handed the pile back. 

Crowley took a large bite of the stuff and then stuffed it back in his bag. He dug around in it, looking for something. 

“You really don’t need to keep bringing me stu-” 

Any words Aziraphale might have known seemed to leave his head as Crowley presented him with a necklace. It had a gold chain, undamaged by the water, and one of the largest gems that Aziraphale has ever seen. 

“Crowley,” he whispered, letting Crowley deposit the necklace in his hands. The gem was a lovely shade of blue, and Aziraphale’s best guess was that it was a sapphire. “This is beautiful,” he said, his voice still a whisper. “Where on Earth did you find this?” 

"Beautiful,” Crowley mimicked. 

Aziraphale tore his attention away, looking at Crowley. Crowley was staring at him, rather intently. 

"Beautiful,” he repeated. 

Aziraphale felt a small blush from on his face and he quickly turned to his bag. What an odd reaction to have to a strange creature staring at you and calling you beautiful. 

"I have something for you, too,” Aziraphale said, an unfamiliar waver in his voice. He cleared his throat and carefully tucked the necklace away, keeping it safe. He pulled out his stack of books. “You can have one of these, if you’d like.” 

Aziraphale spread the books out on the rocks. There were five in total. Truth be told, Aziraphale didn’t want to lose any of his own books. But he had promised to get Crowley one of his own. Problem was, this town didn’t have a bookstore yet, not even a library! But Anathema, genius that she was, had brought a whole case of books for the school. And Aziraphale had successfully negotiated for some of them as a sort of ‘payment’ for his teaching one day. 

Crowley looked at the books, his head tilting a bit. Then he looked up at Aziraphale, expectantly. 

“Go on,” Aziraphale said, gesturing to the books. “Yours,” he said. “Any one you’d like." 

Crowley nodded slightly then looked down at the books. He grabbed one and flipped through its pages. Aziraphale didn’t think Crowley could read, at least, not in any language Aziraphale knew. But Crowley seemed to study the pages of each book as if he was trying to understand, or maybe find, something. 

Crowley had gone through ever book, and he put the last one down, blinking up at Aziraphale. 

“No?” Aziraphale asked with a small frown. “None of these?” He looked over them. He knew he hadn’t picked the best books of the bunch, but he had hoped that one of them would pique Crowley’s interest. 

Crowley’s mouth moved from side to side a bit, his eyebrows furrowing. “Crowley,” he said slowly. 

“Yes,” Aziraphale confirmed. “That is your name.” 

Crowley shook his head. He tapped the cover of the nearest book. “Crowley.” 

Aziraphale paused for a beat, then his mouth fell open. “Oh!” It wasn’t the book that Crowley was interested in. Of course! Crowley had wanted the drawing of himself. “My dear, of course! I’m so sorry, I’d be happy to make a drawing for you!” 

Aziraphale pulled his notebook back out, opening it to a blank page. He gestured to the spot beside him and got straight to work. Crowley beamed and climbed up to sit next to him. 

Aziraphale was glad to get another chance to draw Crowley. He got to marvel at the pure beauty of Crowley’s body. His scales, upon closer inspection, were a very dark, murky green, that appeared black at a quick glance, and they almost seemed to melt into the skin around his abdomen. The sinew around his hands seemed almost web-like, and they stuck well to whatever he touched, yet he didn’t seem to have any trouble releasing things at will. And his gills! Aziraphale wanted to get a better, closer look at them, but he could see that, when out of the water, the skin flattened down around the open slits, protecting them. 

Aziraphale scribbled away like a mad man, wanting to get the drawing done quickly so he could spend more time talking to and investigating Crowley. But as he was only halfway through, Crowley startled and pushed off into the water, splashing the line of books a bit as he went.

Aziraphale leaned forward, watching him disappear into the dark of the water. Aziraphale frowned and scanned over the beach. Sure enough, a group of children were walking up the sand. There were four of them, each holding sticks and welding them about like swords. They almost seemed to be marching. 

Aziraphale shook his head and gathered his things. Crowley wouldn’t be back for the rest of the day, he was sure. He could go home and finish the sketch based off the one he already had. 

“Halt there,” one of the children said as Aziraphale stepped onto the sand. It was a tall boy with dark hair and skin scuffed with dirt. 

"Who are you?” an equally tall boy with golden, curled hair asked. 

Aziraphale opened his mouth to respond, but was cut off by the only girl in the group. She jumped forward, holding her stick out to him in a jabbing motion. “Clearly he’s a thief!” she announced. 

“I am not,” Aziraphale argued. 

“Empty your bag then, thief,” the fourth child said. He was a small boy, his face framed by wide glasses.

“I’m not going to empty my bag,” Aziraphale told them with a sigh. He resisted the urge to roll his eyes. “I haven’t stolen anything.” 

“Then you have nothing to hide in there,” the golden haired kid said. 

Aziraphale held his bag close, because he did have something to hide in there. A few somethings, he figured. “What are your names?” he asked, squinting at them. He was hoping he could use the fact that he was an adult to help him out of this situation. 

"I’m Adam,” the boy said. He nodded at the girl. “That’s Pepper.” He gestured to the two boys behind him. “And that’s Wensleydale and Brian.” 

“Your turn,” Pepper said, jabbing the stick at Aziraphale again, poking his arm lightly. 

Aziraphale frowned at her. “My name is Aziraphale,” he told them. 

"Oh.” Adam lowered his stick and the others followed suit. “You’re that scientist Miss Anathema was talking about.” 

“Yes,” Aziraphale said, nodding eagerly. “You must be from her class. I bet that means you're rather smart.” 

They all looked pleased with themselves. 

"We’re probably the smartest in the whole town,” Adam said. “Smarter than most adults, I reckon. We own this beach, actually. None of the other kids are allowed to play here on it. Course, we could let you play here. If you promise not to mess it up any.” 

“Adults are always messing things up,” Pepper said. The other boys nodded in agreement. 

Aziraphale smiled at them. “Well, I promise. No messes from me.” 

Adam nodded. “You could help us patrol, if you want.” 

“Actually,” Wensleydale said, “that’s a brilliant idea.” 

“Patrol?” Aziraphale asked. 

“We come here after school some days,” Brian explained. He gestured up and down the beach with his stick. “Keep an eye out for monsters and such.” 

“Monsters?” Aziraphale asked with great interest. “Seen any?” 

Pepper frowned. “No.” 

“Wensley thought he saw one once,” Adam said. “But it was just a bunch of seaweed that had washed ashore after a storm.” 

“It really did look like a monster,” Wensleydale said. 

Aziraphale smiled softly at them, secure in the knowledge that Crowley hadn’t been spotted. “Perhaps some other day,” he said. “I have a bit of work to attend to.” He patted his bag. 

“Adults are so boring,” Pepper said. “Always doing _work_.” 

“That’s alright,” Adam said. “Sometimes work can be important. We’ll be out here if you change your mind.” 

Aziraphale nodded at them. “I’ll keep that in mind.” 

The kids said goodbye and then continued their patrol down the beach. Aziraphale frowned, climbing his way back up to his shack. He hoped that their little patrol missions didn’t happen too often. He would hate to miss all that time with Crowley, especially if he had to try and entertain them each time he wanted to go home. 

Back in the shack, Aziraphale unpacked. He held the necklace up, watching the way the gem caught the light. It was absolutely stunning. He had never owned something as lovely as this. He laid it down on his desk, next to the plate, fork, and boot that Crowley had already gifted him. It was a strange collection of items, and Aziraphale longed to know where they all came from. He hoped that if he hung out with Crowley long enough, one day he just might find out. 


	4. The troublemaker doesn't fall far from the tree

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Oh Warlock, my sweet precious summer child

Humans didn’t really like the rain, so it was really no surprise to Crowley to find that Aziraphale wasn’t on the rocks the next day. Crowley waited around for about an hour, poking about at the growths on the underside of the rocks. But after that, it was pretty clear that Aziraphale was going to be inside all day. 

Crowley didn’t really understand why humans didn’t like the rain. He loved it. He could be above the surface without having to worry about his skin getting all dry and wrinkled. But human skin usually was dry. So maybe they didn’t like getting it wet in the same way he didn’t like getting it dry.

Yet they swam around in the water a lot, when the weather was warm enough.

Humans, he decided, would just never make any sense. 

Crowley returned home and removed the gifts for Aziraphale from his bag, replacing them with his exploring goods. He had his own knife, slightly bigger than the one he had given Warlock. He also had a chipped rock that was good for smashing things if he needed to. 

He felt the water shifting around him as the stone to his home was pushed aside. He glanced over his shoulder as Warlock swam in. He was smiling.

“Morning,” Crowley said. “You’re up early.” Warlock had been sleeping when Crowley went to bed last night, but he was gone when Crowley left to see Aziraphale. 

“I’ve been busy,” Warlock announced. His smile widened, and Crowley didn’t like that. He didn’t like it even more that Warlock’s hands were hidden behind his back. 

“Dare I ask?” Crowley dared to ask.

Warlock revealed what he had been hiding and Crowley had been afraid of that. The tallest stalk of algae from the bush. 

“Not the tallest,” Crowley announced, fighting back panic as he turned to double check he had everything he needed for the day.

“Is to!” Warlock argued. He laid it out on one of their shelves. “Look at it!”

Crowley did not look at it. “Sorry, but it’s not.” He shrugged and turned. He couldn't just _leave_ , so he studied the other wall of shelves, as if determining what else he would take with him. 

“Prove it!” Warlock said. He crossed his arms, scowling in a way that made Crowley wonder if they really were related. 

“It’s not my job to prove it,” he said, smirking a bit. He swam over and patted Warlock on the head. “It was a good effort. Good practice too. I’m sure you’ll get it next time.”

Warlock huffed, pulling the algae off the shelf and letting it drop to the floor. He did look properly upset, but Crowley couldn’t risk him going outside of the gathering. It was much too dangerous, and Warlock, despite clearly being able to sneak about and use a knife, simply wasn’t ready for it all. 

“Soon,” Crowley assured him as he pushed the stone aside. “I promise. You almost got it.” He slipped out and sped away.

-

Crowley decided to stop by the shore just in case. And he was so glad he did. Aziraphale was sitting on the rocks, holding on to an umbrella with one hand while trying to write with the other. Crowley smiled, his tail-fin reflexively swishing about in fast circles. 

He propelled himself forward, trying to carefully emerge so as to not splash Aziraphale. He failed, but Aziraphale laughed, not terribly worried, thankfully.

“There you are,” Aziraphale said. “Wasn’t sure, with the rain and all.” Aziraphale gestured to the air around him. 

“Rain,” Crowley said, putting two and two together. This whole human language really wasn’t all that hard. 

“Yes!” Aziraphale exclaimed, clapping a bit, his umbrella moving with each motion. “I would have stayed in but, well, my house apparently leaks. Quite a lot. Not much different from being out here.” He smiled. “Oh! Yes, before I forget.”

Crowley leaned up on the rock a bit, watching Aziraphale balance the umbrella against his shoulder as he flipped through his notebook. He tore out a page and held it out to him. 

Crowley grabbed it eagerly, feeling his chest swell with joy as he looked at the second drawing of himself. “Mine?” he asked, just to be sure.

Aziraphale nodded. “Yes, yours.”

Crowley pulled it close, holding it to his chest like it was the most precious thing in the world. Because it was. Because it was a gift from Aziraphale. Only he realized that he didn’t have a gift in return. 

Panicking a bit, Crowley opened his bag and looked around. He couldn’t give Aziraphale his knife, and certainly not his rock. Maybe Aziraphale would like his bag? Crowley kept coming across other ones. None were as unique as this one, but he would much rather make Aziraphale happy.

A hand touched his shoulder. Crowley looked over at it, then followed the arm up to Aziraphale’s face. He had a very soft smile. “It’s alright,” he said. “You don’t have to give me anything.” He shook his head slightly. 

Did Aziraphale not want a gift? Crowley furrowed his eyebrows. No, no that couldn’t be right. Everyone loved getting gifts. And Aziraphale was always so happy to receive one. He was upset, was what it was. Crowley hadn’t brought him anything and he was upset. 

Before Crowley could plan to empty his bag and give it over as an apology for not being better prepared, a strong jet of water shot out from the left of the rocks, splattering expertly against Aziraphale’s face. 

Crowley’s head snapped over to the source of the water. Warlock. Out of the gathering. On the surface. Out in the open for anyone to see. 

With adrenaline pumping hot through his body, Crowley rushed over, practically tackling Warlock back under the water. Warlock struggled against his hold, but Crowley was fueled with parental panic and he held on tight, not stopping until they were well hidden by the darkest of waters.

“Let me go!” Warlock cried, thrashing about. 

Crowley did, now that they were safe. But he kept glancing around, making sure nothing was sneaking up on them. “What are you doing here?” he hissed out. 

“You said I could come with you when I cut down the tallest algae without getting caught! And I did! So I went out with you!”

Crowley scowled at him. “How did you get out?”

“My sneaking skills are exquisite,” Warlock told him. “See? I belong out here! I can handle myself.”

“Yeah, well, you just proved you’re not ready.” Crowley grabbed Warlock’s arm and started to drag him back to the gathering.

“Hey! Let go! What do you mean I’m not ready?” Warlock struggled to pull free, but ultimately failed. “I’m super sneaky. I can hide from anything! I even managed to hide from you!”

“You disobeyed me,” Crowley said. A phrase he had never had to use before. Although, to be fair, there were very few rules Warlock had to follow. “And if you can’t do as your told and follow basic instructions, then you are clearly not ready to handle yourself out here.”

“But it was a stupid instruction,” Warlock argued. “I’m good enough to be out here and you know it! You’re just scared!”

He had a point, not that Crowley would admit it. “I’m the adult here,” he said. “I’ll say when you’re good enough.”

“You’re not the only one with a key out,” Warlock mumbled. “I could just go find someone else to take me.”

Crowley stilled, his hand going slack. The very concept of losing Warlock struck him with so much fear it was debilitating. It kept him up at night, the idea of Warlock showing up dead one day, or worse, kidnapped by the humans and turned into some kind of experiment. Warlock slipped out of his grip and Crowley felt like he was slipping out of his life. 

“It’s not like I’m gonna,” Warlock muttered. “But I could, you know.”

Crowley swallowed the lump in his throat. He shook himself loose and started swimming again, certain that Warlock would keep up. 

A few seconds passed. 

“What were you even doing with that human?” Warlock asked. “You looked like you were talking to him. You’re not supposed to talk to them.”

“I know that,” Crowley said. He didn’t have to explain himself to Warlock. But maybe it would help. “He’s a...friend.”

“You’re friends with a human?” Warlock rushed forward a bit, falling in line with Crowley as they swam. “You always said humans are dangerous, and to not go near them.”

“Yes,” Crowley said. “That’s true. They are dangerous and you should not go near them.”

“Then how come you’re friends with one? That sounds a little hypocritical to me.”

Crowley shook his head. Damn kid was too smart for his own good. 

“It’s complicated,” he said. “You’ll understand when you’re older.”

Warlock groaned and they continued in silence until they came across the gathering. 

“Don’t remember a plus one this morning,” Hastur said, his voice stopping them as they entered. 

“Last minute addition,” Crowley said, debating if they should just keep swimming anyway. It’s not like Hastur could follow them too far, not if he wanted to stay close to the border. “Came back for him. Ligur was there.”

“Ligur’s off today,” Hastur said. Crowley winced. 

“Did I say Ligur? I meant, uh-”

“Dagon,” Warlock said, nudging Crowley in the side with his elbow. “Remember?”

“Ah yes! That’s who it was. Dagon.” Crowley smiled at Hastur. “Hard to keep everything straight these days.” He chuckled. 

“Must be,” Hastur said, his voice slow and steady. “With all that coming and going you’ve been doing.”

“Just doing my usual work,” Crowley said. “Can’t blame me for being good at my job.”

“I can,” Hastur said. He squinted a bit. “I do.”

“Oh get a life,” Warlock told him.

Crowley had to bite back a laugh. He should probably scold Warlock for being rude, but if anyone deserved it, it was certainly Hastur.

Hastur’s eyes wandered over to Warlock. He sighed. “Be careful,” he warned. “Hang around him out there and you might follow in your parents’ footsteps.”

“Well, been great talking to you!” Crowley said.

He grabbed Warlock’s arm and pulled him away, checking over his shoulder that Hastur wasn’t following them. He did stare at them until they were out of view, however. 

“Don’t listen to him,” Crowley said, nudging Warlock a bit. “What happened to our folks was just...well it was just plain weird.”

“I’m not gonna end up like them,” Warlock said. There was a passion in his eyes that worried Crowley a bit. “I’m going to be better!”

Crowley stopped, holding Warlock back. “Hey, kid. Hold up a minute.”

Warlock sighed and crossed his arms, looking away, down and to the side. “What?”

Crowley swam down, until they were eye-level. “Part of being a good scavenger is being smart. And part of being smart is not doing something stupid in an attempt to prove yourself.”

“My parents _were_ smart,” Warlock said, looking at him.

“And they still got caught,” Crowley added. “So if you want to be better, you need to be smarter.” He straightened back up. “And that means no more sneaking out of the gathering, and absolutely no more going up to the shore. Understood?”

Warlock rolled his eyes, lingering a bit on the space around Crowley. “Yeah, I get it.”

Crowley smiled. “Good.” He placed a hand on Warlocks’ back and they started swimming back towards home. “I’ll tell ya what. Tomorrow we can go to the green sight.”

“But that’s like, barely outside of the border,” Warlock said. “It’s probably already been picked clean!”

“Take it or leave it, kid,” Crowley said. “It’s good practice.”

Warlock sighed again. “Fine. We’ll go to the boring green sight.”


	5. A day spent apart

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Oh man. I'm sorry, I didn't even realize it had been a whole month since I worked on this! What even is time these days?  
> Please take this devious child Warlock as penance for my sins. And thank you for reading <3 <3

Aziraphale sighed and cast a worried glance out the window of his home. The door and windows were open, helping to dry out the water he didn’t manage to catch in buckets in time. It really was an uncomfortable place to live, but it was worth it simply to have met Crowley. And it would be more worth it with every passing day he got to learn more.

Only Aziraphale wouldn’t get to learn more that day. 

Aziraphale was ever so grateful to Gabriel for the opportunity to come here and work. And he did like the town, if not so much his house. But part of the arrangement included Aziraphale sitting in on town meetings, offering advice as a scientist. It wasn’t like he didn’t want to help. He loved sharing his knowledge with others. But he was sad to miss out on a day with Crowley. And he fretted about what his absence would mean.

Would Crowley think he had abandoned him? Would he think Aziraphale didn’t want to see him anymore? The poor creature seemed to overreact to everything, becoming morose at the loss of a book, excited over a simple drawing. What would he think if Aziraphale wasn’t there?

And it wasn’t like Azirapahle could just leave him a note. Crowley didn’t seem to be able to read the English language, and was only just getting a grasp on speaking it! If Aziraphale wasn’t certain he would be chastized and possibly thrown out of the town, he might have just skipped out on the meeting altogether.

But despite his devotion to science and discovering new things, he also had a duty to this town, as his new home. He would go to the meeting, and he would try his best not to be short with anyone.

As it turned out, not being short with anyone was a lot harder than he expected.

There were three other members on the town council besides Gabriel and himself. There was Michael, who ran the small militia and seemed in charge of town defenses. Uriel kept an eye on day-to-day activities, acting as a sort of court for any misdemeanors that occurred. And Sandalphon was an agent with British Intelligence, serving as their point of contact with those across the sea. And he spent the whole meeting staring suspiciously at Aziraphale.

Aziraphale did not like being stared at as if he had already committed a crime, so his already short attitude got cut even shorter. 

Aziraphale sat in his seat, grabbing the edges of it to stop from squirming. It wasn’t even like he needed to be there. Not one of them had brought up anything that would require a scientific evaluation. Aziraphale watched the sun pass outside, thinking only about Crowley, and how he was reacting to Aziraphale missing.

“What do you think, Aziraphale?” Gabriel said. 

Aziraphale startled and looked back at them, realizing he hadn’t heard a single word up to that point. “I’m sorry,” he said, feeling a blush creep to his face. “What were you saying?”

Gabriel gave a disappointed sigh. “There have been reports of strange occurrences in the ocean,” Gabriel explained. 

“You spend a lot of time down there,” Uriel said, as if that was bad. “Notice anything?”

Aziraphale gulped, knowing he probably looked very guilty. Sandalphone’s gaze intensified. “What-what kind of strange occurrences?”

“Things going missing,” Michael said. “Shapes too large to be fish swimming around.”

Aziraphale’s mouth went dry. He couldn’t have them knowing about Crowley. More than that, he couldn’t have them knowing that he knew about Crowley and didn’t tell them. 

He cleared his throat. “Ah well, perhaps there’s a thief in town, not that I’ve seen anyone stalking about by my place.” He swallowed. “I have seen some dolphin fins out on the horizon. Perhaps they’re finding the gumption to venture closer to town.”

“No,” Gabriel said. “The descriptions don’t match dolphins.” He pulled up a piece of paper, reading over some notes. “More...snake-like.”

“A couple of children thought they saw a monster once,” Aziraphale offered. “Turned out to be clumps of seaweed. Perhaps there’s an infestation. I could look into it if you’d like.”

Gabriel studied him for a moment then nodded, placing the paper back on the table. “Yes, let us know what you find.”

Aziraphale nodded and looked down to avoid Sandalphon’s gaze. That was entirely too close. He had to be more careful from now on. And Crowley had to be, too.

-

Crowley slipped the bag over Warlock’s shoulder, adjusting the ties so it didn’t sit too low against his waist. “How’s that feel? Can you move alright?”

Warlock twisted around in the water, little waves pushing against Crowley. “Yep!” he announced. “Feels just fine!”

“Good.” Crowley placed Warlock’s dagger and rock all his own in the bag, then got himself ready. “Now, what are the rules?”

Warlock sighed and rolled his eyes. “Stay where you can see me. Don’t run off alone. And if you say leave, we leave.”

Crowley nodded. “Good. Now, as long as you follow them, we’ll be fine.”

“Yeah, yeah, I got it. Can we go now?”

Crowley swallowed the lump in his throat and nodded. “Yes. I guess you’re ready.”

They swam out of their home and over to the barrier. Ligur was on duty today, and he made note of Crowley’s plus one in the form of a smiling Warlock. 

The green sight was just outside of the boundaries. And once it _had_ been picked completely clean, the council had plans to try and expand to include it. Crowley thought it would make a very unique place to live, if he could get to it first. 

The ship that had once tried to carry an army full of men to the shore had been struck down with a few powerful bolts of lightning ages ago. Now, all that remained was the hull, rotted and covered with barnacles. Not even much of the inside was left. Warlock was right, it had been picked nearly clean.

But that was what made it perfect for his first time out. The green sight was the safest to visit. But Crowley still kept an eye out, swiveling his head around as they swam up to the ship. Mostly all that was around here were fish, but something else might be lurking about. And he swore he would never let anything bad happen to Warlock.

“This is so cool,” Warlock whispered as they floated through a hole on the side, emerging in a dark room. “Too bad there won’t be anything cool to find.”

“Don’t be so defeatist,” Crowley said. “You’re good at finding things, may pick up on something I missed.”

Warlock scoffed, but went looking through the room anyway. Crowley stayed off to the side, keeping an eye on every shadow, jumping at every sound. He was going to need a nap after this, with how wound up he was.

“Oh wow!” Warlock exclaimed, snooping through an old chest. “You’ll never guess what I found!”

“What’s that?” Crowley asked.

Warlock pulled up his find and stared at Crowley with a dead-pan face. “An old sock.”

Crowley laughed. “Hey, you still found something. Better than nothing, right?”

“We don’t even wear socks,” Warlock complained. He sighed and dropped the sock, letting it drift to the floor. Crowley snatched it up, stuffing it in his bag. Warlock gave him a look.

“What?” Crowley shrugged. “Someone might want it. Good for trading.”

Warlock rolled his eyes and they swam out to the hall, moving down to the next room. “You’re probably going to give it to that human, aren’t you?”

“No,” Crowley lied. The truth was, the sock had a hole in the toe, same as the boot. It would match perfectly, and Aziraphale was sure to appreciate that.

They meandered through the rooms, Warlock finding a few small, uninteresting items that he tossed to the side for Crowley to pick up again. (Most of them he really did keep for trading purposes).

While they went about their search, Crowley relaxed a little, knowing that the longer they were there, the less likely it was that something else would show up. Most creatures were territorial after all. If they hadn’t come across anyone by now, they probably wouldn’t. 

So Crowley relinquished his watch duties, instead showing Warlock how to properly knock loose a lock, or how to cut through a rope quickly, should he ever get caught in anything. And Warlock absorbed all this information with a wide, excited grin. And despite all the dangers, Crowley was glad they had gone. Seeing Warlock happy was worth the five years off his life the panic had caused. 

“Alright, kid. You’ve had your fun. Time to head back.”

Warlock opened his mouth to argue, but then closed it with a sigh. He remembered the rules, at least. “Can we go out again tomorrow?”

“Maybe not tomorrow,” Crowley said. He grabbed Warlock by the shoulders and steered him towards the exit. Truth was, he didn’t want to go another day without seeing Aziraphale. “But you’ve proven you can handle it. So, sometime soon.”

“And we can go to a _real_ wreck?” Warlock asked, looking up at Crowley.

“This is a real wreck.”

Warlock sighed and rolled his eyes again. They swam out to the main hall and Warlock yelled, wiggling out of Crowley’s grasp and swimming around to hid behind him.

Crowley’s body stiffened, his senses on high alert. But he relaxed when he zeroed in on the sight that gave Warlock his fright. In Warlock’s defense, those who didn’t know Madame Tracy could rightfully be scared of her appearance. Most sea witches had that effect on people. With a large, purple body of octopus nature, Tracy really put up a terrifying front. But Crowley knew the good and kind heart that lay within it. 

“It’s alright, kid,” he said, reaching around to pat Warlock’s head. “She’s a friend.”

Warlock peaked his head out, holding tight to Crowley’s body as Tracy approached. 

“Warlock, this is Madame Tracy,” Crowley explained. “Tracy, this is that hooligan I’ve been telling you about.”

“Ah,” Tracy said. She smiled at him and held out a hand. “I’ve heard so much about you. It’s nice to finally put a face to the name.”

Warlock looked at her, then up at Crowley. Crowley nodded and Warlock slipped back around to his side, carefully taking Tracy’s hand. “Nice to meet you,” he said. “Are you a scavenger, too?”

“Oh goodness, no,” Tracy said with a soft chuckle. “I’m a sea witch.”

Warlock’s eyes lit up. Crowley knew he would like that. “A sea witch?” He swam closer, further from Crowley’s safety. “That’s awesome! But...what’s a sea witch need from a rinky old thing like this?”

“The barnacles are excellent reactors,” Tracy told him. She opened a little basket she was carrying, full to the brim with them.

“Oh, cool.” Warlock looked over them, smiling a bit. Maybe Crowley could get him interested in potions instead of scavenging. Sure would save him a lot of anxiety.

“Hey, Tracy, while I have ya,” Crowley said, “I got a question.”

“Of course, what’s on your mind?”

“Can you make a potion, or spell even, that would help someone learn a language really fast?”

Tracy studied him. “Thinking of taking up dolphin, are we?”

“ _No_.”

Warlock smiled a little devious grin at Tracy. “Crowley’s in love with a human,” he said.

“Oh?” Tracy gave him a surprised look. Which was fair. Considering.

“I am not in love,” Crowley clarified, glaring down at Warlock who just laughed. “But, uh...I have this friend…” He could feel himself blush as he thought about Aziraphale, which did not help his case any.

“Crowley and the human, sitting in a reef,” Warlock sang. “K-i-s-s-i-n-”

Crowley wrapped an arm around Warlock’s head, cutting him off with a hand to his mouth. Warlock shook with giggles under his hold.

“Well, love or not I’m afraid I don’t have a spell like that,” Tracy said. Crowley frowned. “But I could look into it, if you’d like.”

“I would love,” Crowley said. “I promise, I’ll bring you anything even remotely useful I find out here.”

“It seems we have ourselves a deal, doesn’t it?” Tracy held her hand out and Crowley shook it with his free one. 

“Thanks! I gotta get the brat here home, but I’ll come by soon with goodies!”

Tracy waved them away and Crowley dragged Warlock, still muzzled, out of the ship. “You’re grounded for all of eternity,” he said, upon releasing him.

Warlock just laughed and raced him home. He may not have gotten to see Aziraphale that day, but as far as Crowley was concerned, it had been a good day, anyway.


	6. of Hair and Home

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I have nothing to say for myself 😂😂
> 
> I didn't even update this once during mermay and from that I shall never recover😭😭
> 
> But I appreciate everyone who puts up with my erratic posting habits and still sticks around/comes back to read. And I also appreciate everyone who joins in the fray along the way <3 <3 Thank you all <3

“Oh, oh you’re here!” Aziraphale shouted. He settled himself down. “I was so worried you weren’t going to show. I’m very sorry I couldn’t make it yesterday.”

Crowley just smiled at him and reached into the bag at his side. He produced a sock, old and drenched. Aziraphale kept up a tight smile as he took it.

“Well, thank you,” he said. He figured gift giving must just be a merfolk tradition. “Ah,” he said, with a surprised little gasp. “It matches the boot.” He showed the hole to Crowley who widened his smile and nodded enthusiastically. 

“Well, I have a little something for you, too.” Aziraphale reached out behind him to where his coat was once more holding a small pile of shells. Now, Aziraphale was no craftsman, but he figured that if gift-giving was tradition, he’d better not break it. “Here you are.”

He handed Crowley the necklace he had made. It was a shorter loop, as he was certain that having dangling jewelry while swimming around was a bad idea. He had found a wonderful shell that morning that already had a perfectly usable hole in it. All he really had to do was cut some of the lace from the old boot and tie it together. Not much, but something.

Crowley looked between the necklace and Aziraphale as if both of them had hung the stars. His eyes were wide and shimmering in the harsh sun. He looked scared, for a moment, and Aziraphale worried maybe he had done something wrong. But then Crowley smiled and took the necklace gingerly from Aziraphale’s hand, as if fearful he would break it somehow. 

“Lovely,” Crowley said. He bowed his head and slipped the necklace on. He beamed up at Aziraphale, pushing out his chest, proudly showing off his new accessory. 

“I’m so glad you like it,” Aziraphale said. “I felt a little silly getting all these gifts from you and not thinking to get you something in return.”

Crowley made a little noise, that sounds a bit dolphin-like in nature. He placed his hands on either side of Aziraphale’s legs and pulled himself out of the water. His tail-fin half-laid on Aziraphale’s lap, and he supported himself with one hand as the other grabbed Aziraphale’s wrist. Crowley pulled Aziraphale’s arm up to his neck, showing how the bracelet and necklace matched. 

“O-oh. Oh, yes,” Aziraphale said, fighting the heat that rose to his face. There was absolutely no need to get worked up over some strange being laying on top of you, being so close, staring so intently at your face. No need at all. “We match.”

“Match!” Crowley proclaimed. He laughed and raised himself up a little higher. “Match!” he repeated, a little louder. 

Aziraphale panicked and checked around to make sure no one was nearby. “Crowley, please,” he said, reaching up to grab Crowley’s shoulder and lower him a bit. “You must be careful. People have started to notice things. And you can’t…”

Aziraphale frowned, worried over Crowley’s fate. He longed to tell someone about his discovery. After all, mermaids were real! And here he had proof. He could study them, learn about them. It was the scientific discovery of the century! But Aziraphale knew what usually happened when new creatures were discovered. They were captured, taken away to some stuffy facility where they were cut open and investigated.

Not that Aziraphale disproved of this, as a whole. Looking inside something was one of the quickest ways to learn about them. He just preferred the poor things could die of natural causes first, not spend their last days hidden away in cages. He studied Crowley’s bright face. If he told anyone about what he found, if he let Crowley get discovered...no. He couldn’t imagine this wonderful being, so full of life and love, stuck in some pool somewhere in a lab. There were plenty of observations to be made in the wild, and that was where Aziraphale preferred to do his work anyway. 

Crowley’s face dropped a bit as Aziraphale chided him. He was certain Crowley couldn’t actually tell what he was saying, but he picked up on tone of both face and voice easily, and he probably knew Aziraphale wasn’t very happy with him in that moment. 

Aziraphale smiled, to show Crowley there was no harm done. He forgot himself, reaching up to run a hand through Crowley’s hair. It was surprisingly soft, and not at all as tangled as he had expected it to be. Perhaps there was a sort of oil in merfolk scalps that kept it silky smooth. Either way, the scalp of merfolk still seemed to have those nerves, the ones that filled the body with joy when stimulated. Crowley closed his eyes, and made a humming noise as he smiled. And Aziraphale’s smile widened, overjoyed with both his discovery and Crowley’s reaction. See? You didn’t need to go killing something to learn much at all.

Crowley lurched backwards, rather suddenly, hand tightening on Aziraphale’s arm as they fell into the water. Aziraphale would have ran through the options of why Crowley had jumped back (someone appeared on the beach, he forgot something at home, he had fallen asleep to the head massage) had he not been shocked by the cold intensity of the water rushing around him. He barely had the brain power to remember to take a breath before becoming submerged. 

Crowley had moved his hands to Aziraphale’s waist among all the flailing. He was holding him up, or perhaps holding him down. Either way they were still close together as they floated just below the surface of the water. Aziraphale knew that Crowley wouldn’t hurt him on purpose, but he worried that Crowley didn’t understand that humans couldn’t breath underwater. Or perhaps that he misjudged how long they could hold their breath. 

Aziraphale grew accustomed to his new watery setting and let his body relax. After all, seizing up and overworking his muscles would just run him out of oxygen sooner. He opened his eyes, wincing a bit as they stung. But it was worth it to see what Crowley had dragged him into the water for. 

As they rocked gently to the under-waves of the sea, Crowley’s hair flowed out and around his head, creating a sort of halo-effect. It was beautiful and lovely, and each strand seemed to move and dance independently, as if each were a tiny creature trying to show off. Aziraphale smiled, wanted to laugh. But he also needed to breathe. He placed one hand on Crowley’s arm, and pointed to the surface with his other. Crowley nodded and with a few swishes of his tail they emerged on the surface. 

Aziraphale coughed and caught his breath, reflexively holding onto Crowley’s shoulders for support. It wasn’t that he couldn’t swim, just that he wasn’t very confident in his abilities to do so. Crowley held him tighter, seeming to have no trouble supporting them both. He started at Aziraphale expectantly. 

“Thank you,” Aziraphale managed to say. “You have beautiful hair.”

Crowley smiled, waves rippling around them as he swished his fin about in the water. He pushed them closer to the rocks and helped Aziraphale climb back on them. Aziraphale picked at his clothes. They would take hours to dry, and he didn’t fancy sitting out here naked as they did. He would have to go back to his shack. He frowned a bit. He didn’t want to end the day so soon. But he was likely to catch a cold or something if he stayed in his outfit much longer. 

“I have to go home now,” he explained, pointing up to his house. Even though Crowley couldn’t understand him, he hoped he wasn’t giving off a vibe that it was Crowley’s fault. (Even if it kind of was).

Crowley looked between Aziraphale and the house up the hill. He nodded, frowning a bit as he sank lower into the water. If Aziraphale didn’t know any better, he would say Crowley looked adorable, pouting with just his head above the surface. But he certainly did know better.

He chuckled and reached down, riskily running his hand over Crowley’s hair again. Thankfully he did not get pulled back into the water. “I hope to see you tomorrow,” he said. 

Crowley did grab Aziraphale’s arm, however, running fingers over the shells of his bracelet. “Home,” he said. 

Aziraphale puzzled over that, but had no time to try and suss out what Crowley thought home meant before he was turning around and swimming off into the dark shadows of the water.


End file.
